


Blame the Catsuit

by cher



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cher/pseuds/cher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus twisted his wrists in the manacles above his head, testing to see how much room he had to work. </p><p>Nothing. The idiots had, for once, done a competent job in securing a prisoner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame the Catsuit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dkwilliams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/gifts).
  * Translation into 日本語 available: [Blame the Catsuit （日本語訳）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561884) by [Kyokana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyokana/pseuds/Kyokana)



> This is a Yuletide Treat for dkwilliams.
> 
> Thanks to flamebyrd for excellent beta help.

Klaus twisted his wrists in the manacles above his head, testing to see how much room he had to work.

Nothing. The idiots had, for once, done a competent job in securing a prisoner. There wasn't enough space for Klaus to pull free, even with a temporary slick of blood from his chafed wrists. He thought there was a small chance that dislocating his thumbs might let him get free, but then he wouldn't be able to fire a gun.

His attempt to pull the manacle chains out of the wall hadn't helped either.

Klaus swore viciously to himself and leaned his head back against the stone wall. His face ached, and his left eye was swelling shut. His left side was a long throb of pain, but he didn't think any ribs had broken.

No matter. They hadn't found the microfiche, so all Klaus had to do was sit tight and wait a day or two for the Alphabets to pull him out, or wait for the right piece of idiocy from his captors to break free.

*

Klaus cracked open his good eye, coming out of a light doze at the sound of a muffled scrape. It couldn't be anything but a shoe scuffing quietly on the gritty stone floor. He held still, feigning sleep.

There was silence for a beat, then a low, welcome voice. "Major!" Klaus felt a thrill at hearing it. Dorian's presence always made for an exciting mission, a fact Klaus kept closely guarded.

Klaus opened his good eye, searching the dim cell. There, a patch of shadow darker than than the shadow around it. "Eroica," he managed, his mouth dry and his voice gravelly with disuse. "Should have known. Tell me: which of my Alphabet is going to Alaska?"

Eroica came toward him out of the shadows, tall, slim and all competence in his black catsuit. His riotous hair was tied back tightly, and he'd smudged his face and hands with soot. Klaus felt the familiar bolt of frustration that Dorian hid this wickedly effective operative under his everyday foppery. Eroica was excellent at what he did, and Klaus was years past resenting it.

"Oh, Major. Your Alphabet doesn't need to tell me when you're captured. I'd have been on the job with you yesterday if I hadn't been held back in Paris. Now, how badly are you hurt?"

Klaus still put on a show of trying to keep Dorian out of his business, but knowing Eroica was watching his back was a safety net he quietly valued.

"I'm not hurt," Klaus gritted out.

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Major, you're looking at me out of one eye. Hold still."

Dorian stepped into Klaus' space and peered closely at his bruised face. Humming in disapproval, Dorian ran impersonal hands over Klaus' face and skull, checking for blood and contusions. Klaus kept his breathing even through years of practice, but he couldn't do anything about the speeding of his pulse.

Dorian found nothing more than the gash under Klaus' eye, he looked flatly at him.

"Major, I can tell you're favouring your side. I'm going to check you for other injuries. Do try not to have a homophobic panic and kick me while I do."

Klaus growled at him. "I told you I'm not hurt." He knew what Dorian would find if he kept touching Klaus that way. Shit, shit, shit. If  _this_ Dorian, this focused, professional man in his utilitarian catsuit, had ever approached him, Klaus might have given in long since. But this Dorian never would; he was too much a professional to jeopardise missions for his own gratification.

Dorian raised a steely eyebrow.

Klaus blew out a frustrated breath. "I won't kick you, you idiot. Get on with it if you must."

Mouth compressed in a firm line, Dorian ran firm, gentle hands down Klaus' sides, watching closely for a reaction. Klaus felt his dick harden and closed his eyes in resignation.

Mistaking his reaction for pain, Dorian lingered over Klaus' bruised left side, pressing lightly. Shit. Klaus barely kept from squirming. He was aware, in his line of work, that the things he wanted weren't unusual for men like himself. But the trust that would allow him to permit this...! It was rare, and for Klaus, it had been a very long time.

The pressure of the manacles shifted subtly, no longer a discomfort to be endured but an erotic reminder that Klaus could not move. The light, probing touches of Dorian pressing on his bruises went straight to his dick. Despairing, Klaus gritted out a question about their captors.

"We have plenty of time to get you out of here, Major," Dorian answered distractedly, concentrating on his search for broken ribs. "I'm going to have to look at this. I'm unbuttoning your shirt. Try to contain yourself."

Klaus did try. He bit his lip near bloody to stop himself from pushing his chest forward for Dorian, as the dexterous thief's fingers made short work of Klaus' buttons. His fingers were warm and purposeful on Klaus' cold skin, chilled from his hours in the cell.

Klaus closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the stone, and endured, his dick aching.

Dorian hummed again, disapproving but moving on from Klaus' bruises. "I don't think you have any breaks, Major, but you're going to be moving stiffly for a week."

Klaus huffed an acknowledgement. "Eroica, I tell you I'm fine. You can leave off."

Dorian met his gaze levelly. "Major, I will not have you collapsing on me when I get you out of here. I know it's distasteful to you, but I must check you over. If I thought you would actually tell me if you were injured, this wouldn't be necessary, but we both know you're a stubborn idiot and you'd rather bleed to death than admit you needed help. So sit still."

That was it, then. Klaus kept his eyes on Dorian as he skimmed his hands down his abdomen, and so he saw the moment that Dorian noticed his tenting pants. His movements paused for a heartbeat, and then he moved smoothly on, kneeling to skim his hands down Klaus' tensed thighs with that same firm, professional touch.

He stood again, meeting Klaus' gaze squarely. "You're fine to move. This side is the worst of it," he said, watching Klaus closely, as he pressed down on the bruise. He nodded at Klaus' hiss, and Klaus felt his face heat.

"Well," he gritted out, forcing himself to hold Dorian's gaze, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Eroica looked away, and Klaus saw a flicker of pain in his face. "Major, it's a common and involuntary response. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Klaus was not surprised that Dorian, in this harder, truer version of himself, would not press his advantage. Iron Klaus was not a man who tolerated less than the truth from himself, so he would admit that he wished that this one time Dorian would. Here he was, chained, aroused and his chest exposed, and now Eroica refused his usual flirtations.

"Idiot, I'm not ashamed," Klaus growled. "My dick knows what it wants." He glared at Dorian, saw his jaw tighten.

"And of course you want it now, while injured and chained up in someone else's dungeon."

"I like you like this," he said flatly.

"And tomorrow you'll hate me."

"Tomorrow I'll go back to Bonn. You can join me."

"So all these years, all I had to do was chain you up."

Klaus shrugged, as best he could with his arms chained over his shoulders.

Dorian stepped in close to Klaus, his fingers grazing the wound on Klaus' cheek. He watched Klaus lean into the touch. "What do you want?"

"Touch me," he breathed, closing his eyes.

Dorian's strong right hand closed over Klaus' throbbing dick through his pants, and his hips jerked forward. He pulled sharply against the restraints.

"Like this, Major?"

"Don't call me that," Klaus gritted. "And get my pants open."

"Hmm," Dorian said, squeezing Klaus' dick. "I don't believe I'm taking your orders right now, Klaus."

The noise that escaped him wasn't quite a whimper.

Dorian stroked him through his pants; long, leisurely strokes until the wet tip of his dick soaked right through the black fabric. Only then did Dorian lean in close to Klaus, speaking lowly into his ear as he took down Klaus' zipper.

"I'm going to touch your dick now, Klaus. You're going to come harder than you ever have in your life."

His long fingers closed over Klaus' hot dick, and it was the best thing he had ever felt.

"If I had you in my bed, I'd make you come all over yourself, and then I'd open you right up and get you ready to take my dick. I'd fill you up until you couldn't take any more, and then I'd do it all over again. I'd tie your hands and make you take my dick until you begged me to stop. And I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you, Iron Klaus?"

Klaus came with a hoarse shout, feeling as if his balls were pumping dry. He sagged against the manacles, and Dorian caught his weight easily. Gentling Klaus' dick back into his pants, he reached into his catsuit for his lock picks.

"You're magnificent under me, Major," he murmured. "I'll do that for you whenever you need it."

The manacles fell away with a clatter, and Dorian caught his arms and massaged the muscles as he lowered them slowly. Klaus shivered as Dorian dragged a deliberate thumb across his abused right wrist.

Klaus shook himself and clumsily rebuttoned his shirt, working the pins and needles out of his fingers.

He looked at Dorian, pulled him close and kissed him deeply, rubbing his thigh against Dorian's own hardon. "Let's finish this goddamned mission and get out of here, Eroica."

Dorian smiled, a touch of the radiant Earl peeking through. "Let's do that, darling."

Klaus was too relaxed to raise his usual token protest.


End file.
